


Restoration

by ObsessedtwibrarianOTB



Category: Original Work
Genre: Flash Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedtwibrarianOTB/pseuds/ObsessedtwibrarianOTB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the emptiness and uselessness become unbearable, what can stop the pain?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restoration

I feel like I’m just taking up space. I can’t stand it. This wasn’t part of the deal. They told me I was beautiful and had a bright future. I was meant to be _more_ than what I’ve become. Why has this emptiness suddenly descended upon me?

Things are always more precious when they’re shared. Sadly, I’ve learned that truth the hard way. The view from this window used to make me so happy, but that was when I wasn’t alone. Now, the landscape just looks grim, the trees starved of their leaves and barren, just like I’m famished for the affections that were once lavished upon me in such abundance.

I want this pain to end, but I don’t know how to fix it. I just want those times back again, those times when my existence had meaning. I was a comfort to those around me—at least I _thought_ I was. We shared such a full and wonderful life inside these walls. What did I do wrong?

The sad part of all this is that no one knows what I’m feeling. They never asked; they just left, and I don’t know why. It’s so frustrating. An explanation would have been better than this sudden silence, this vacuum that is now my life. If they didn’t want me any longer, they at least owed me an explanation.

I do not want to be here anymore.

I contemplate the limited choices I have—there must be some way to correct the grievous wrong that has been done to me—but I am unable to bring any of my ideas to fruition. It’s hopeless. I’m trapped in this house, this room, this life that means absolutely nothing. I feel like I’ve been sold a bill of goods and I should be demanding my money back. That would be ironically comical if there were anyone around to laugh.

So, I stare out the window, wanting things to change, but knowing they never will. Until they _do._ For no apparent reason, my existence suddenly decides to stand on its head and point its accusing finger at me, as if to say, “You should have appreciated what you had”. Strong arms wrap themselves around me and I know fear for the first time. I don’t know these people; they aren’t my family. I don’t like their touch.

“It’s time to get you out of here,” they say.

I want to ask them where they’re taking me, but I can’t speak the words. I’m fairly certain I already know their answer anyway.  _Perhaps you’re finally getting your wish. They’re taking you away to dispose of you, or hide you in a locked room. Isn’t that what they do with all useless things?_

I say my silent goodbyes to all that I’ve known, and try to find peace as they take me away.

\----------------------------------------------------

This must be a joke. There obviously will be no restoration of that which I lost. This is just more of the same. It’s a different room and a different view, but there’s the same familiar emptiness I’ve known for far too long. The depth of my despair is immeasurable as they sit me beside yet another horrid window.

Then I feel a sudden heaviness, a familiar comforting weight that brings back sweet memories. Hope stirs within me.

“Hannah, get out of that chair! It’s an antique!!”

“But I like it, Mommy, and so does Fluffy.”

A small human and a cat now sit upon my lap.

I smile.

I am no longer useless.

I am restored.

 


End file.
